


The Hard Way

by bestwithalisp, kassanovella



Category: Star Wars, Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Cum Eating, Dirty Talk, Dubious Consent, F/M, Face-Fucking, Facials, Force Sensitive!Ben Solo, Inappropriate Use of the Force, Interrogation scene reversal, Leia would not approve, Naked Female Clothed Male, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Reader-Insert, Resistance Fighter!Ben Solo, Shameless Smut, Smut, Verbal Humiliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-24
Updated: 2016-09-24
Packaged: 2018-08-17 02:23:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8126782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bestwithalisp/pseuds/bestwithalisp, https://archiveofourown.org/users/kassanovella/pseuds/kassanovella
Summary: A scouter for the First Order, you were given explicit instructions: identify the Resistance's resources, and don't get caught. You failed the latter. And now the general's disgustingly charismatic son wants you to talk. 
Of course, you're going to resist. But as it turns out, he's very... convincing.





	

“Just stay under the radar.”

Those final words seemed simple enough to comprehend. Secrecy was key in maintaining an elite position with the First Order--especially for a spy. You were given only quality devices before landing on D'Qar, including a topolocator in the event you were caught and needed transportation back to the base. 

You spent three nights in a small, abandoned tunnel adjacent to the main outpost, where the Resistance plotted each course of action. Your first night proved successful, and you recorded several locations where new X-Wings were being developed. By the third, however, you had run out of portions and starvation was claiming you faster than you wanted to admit. So many of your superiors were able to bottle sustenance for days after running out, but you were nearly vomiting at the experience. 

You shoved your equipment back in your bag--sonar detectors, recorders, and transporters alike. It was heavier than you remembered, but you assumed it was because the essence of pure hunger was overcoming you. Your boots made a dusty trail in their wake--and perhaps it had been that you didn’t realize how the sound travelled to the massive station not far from where you were vacating. 

Several pounds against the rock behind you were becoming less of an echo, and your heart pumped itself into your throat.   
You were caught.

You palmed at the loop in your belt for the topolocator, the space customized for the device and–-

_Fuck._

Your fingers were met with nothing–-air-–space. How could you have been so foolish to forget such an integral unit? 

It didn’t matter at that moment. You decided to keep pressing forward, hoping to map out where the next base was for both your safety and your stomach. The once-expanded light at the end was now being shadowed by several men with their blasters in formation, while the steps behind you crowded any avenue of escape. You slowed your pace to a stop, contemplating their next actions, and dropped your bag. You pulled your hands over your head and slumped to your knees, allowing the members to cuff your wrists and guide you to the chiseled face of the Resistance. 

“Wait!”

A deep voice–-hoarse and graveled–-traveled through the crevices of the tunnel, ringing in your ears. You winced and looked up, a tall silhouette blinding you from your peripheral vision with each step he took. When he was close enough, he squatted down onto his feet, inspecting your surrender, and you turned your head back down in compliance. His hands drew up to cup your face–-to look you in the eye before deciding what to do with you.

“Welcome to D'Qar,” he said. The smile on his face was broad and cocky. You hated it. “I’m Ben. And you are?”

You were silent, staring at him with a smoldering shame. Not only were you caught, but now the Resistance was acting like you’d stopped by for dinner. Not even in your darkest memories could you recall being so ineffective. You were a joke to them.

“Ah, another No Name, then?” He patted your cheek. “That’s all right. I’ll think of a way to get you to talk.” He winked at you, and to your utter astonishment and horror—you _blushed_. “Take her to the torture chamber.”

“ _What_?” The words came out of your mouth without your permission, and you bit your tongue.

But Ben only chuckled, flashing that stupid, charming grin. “I’m just kidding. We don’t have a torture chamber. But I’ll see you soon.”

The men restraining you tossed your bag to Ben, then hoisted you and led you out of the tunnel, taking you up and into their base. For a Resistance headquarters, the quality of their equipment was sub-par at best. You wondered how in the stars they were managing to put up a fight against the First Order to begin with. Everything was encrusted with dirt and vines and leaves and roots. Sure, it was built into a hill, but they couldn’t have at least _tried_?

Your kind and thoughtful guides dragged you to a hollowed out corner, the tiny room replete with two entire benches. Pain shot through your back as they tugged you forward and sat you down. Fury was boiling in your chest, eyes wide and defiant as you stared at them, heat huffing from your nose. You would have spat at them if your jaw hadn’t been so tight.

More than a few minutes passed with you seated there, one of the guards stationed outside your—cell? Cubby was more like it, really. It would have been no issue for you to just get up and run out. The only problem was—where would you even go in cuffs? Footsteps from around the corner, and the man watching you disappeared. You swallowed a reluctant lump.

“Hope you didn’t miss me.” It was Ben again, grinning as he turned the corner. His brown eyes were glittering with something altogether familiar and paralyzing.  
You sneered, offering him no words in response.

His lips twisted in a mock frown, and you noticed how annoyingly full and pink they were. “You really want to do this the hard way, don’t you?”

A shrug. Your eyes didn’t leave his.

Ben sighed, stepping closer to you, and out of fear, you scooted away. But he was quicker, snatching your chin in his long, strong fingers and jerking your face to meet his own. The _something_ you’d seen in his eyes was clear now—and it was drawing a foolish pool of warmth into your belly.

“That’s okay,” he purred. “I _like_ doing things the hard way.”

Despite your best efforts to turn away from his gaze, his gaze were transfixed on yours, his digits clutching the flesh of your chin tighter to hold you in place. You were trying to turn away, trying to gather any remnants of your dignity, but he was simply enrapturing. You blinked several times to pull yourself from this trance. Stumbling on your thoughts, you remembered the First Order’s oath and began repeating it over and over in your mind like a desperate plea to silence your body’s undeniable want for the man across from you. This was _wrong_. 

“You’re afraid.” He huffed a short laugh–-confident and condescending-–as though he could sense your conflict of body and mind.

“You could call it that.” You looked back down to your fingers trembling rhythmically between your thighs in their restraints. Your knuckles turned white and you pressed your nails into the skin of your palms, quelling any physical appearance of what he thought was fear. But you knew--it was really more of an anticipation. 

He dropped your face and allowed you the satisfaction of distance, if there was any at all. Only when your back hit the stone behind you did you raise your eyes back up to meet his. You noticed he changed positions as well. His elbows were digging into his lap, large fingers spread over a second fist under his chin, chest nearly pressing through his forearms. He was just… examining you. His eyes were shadowed under black eyebrows, his jaw set tight. 

“Tell me about your position with the First Order.” His words were purposeful, but playful.

You raised an eyebrow in disbelief. Part of the Order’s mantra was “Death Before Betrayal.” The “death” part was something to which you took particular exception. 

“What makes you think I would be so willing to give up that information?” The words were clipped quickly in hopes of honing any confidence.  
He exhaled a sharp sigh through his nose, dropped his hands and hunched towards you again. His eyes abandoned yours, peering down to the fasteners of your shirt.

“Oh, I think you’re a lot more willing than you let on.”

His fingers found the first black button looped around its elastic and you flinched away from his fingers. 

“What the fuck do you think you’re–-”

But he wasn’t listening, continuing on with his questions as he freed the first loop. The fabric around your chest separated as he moved lower.

“What’s your purpose on D'Qar?” If he had an ounce of desire for you, his voice wasn’t showing it. He dislodged another button and your breasts pushed through the suppressing material. "What are you? A terrorist? Bomb expert?“ Another button. “A spy?”

You narrowed your eyes-–lips pulled into a straight line-–and you swallowed both your words and your strange arousal. 

His fingers were practiced by the last button, opening it easily and peeling the material away from your bare stomach. He pressed his face closer to yours--a large palm dragging up to cup the swell of your chest, the other fingering at the locks of your handcuffs. 

“If this is how you interrogate your prisoners, it’s entirely unprofess--” Your words caught halfway through as he squeezed your nipple gently.

“And you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy this.”

At that, he burrowed into your collarbone–thick lips grazing over your neck up to your ear. No kissing or biting, only awakening your senses as an attempt to get you to submit to him.

A small click and your hands were free from each other. Your fingers immediately wrapped around his neck trying to pull him closer, just so he would do something with you, just so he would give you any handling--handling for which your body was clamoring. You were disgusted. Instead of running free from imminent danger, all you wanted to do was touch him.

You felt the corners of his mouth turn up just below your earlobe–a subtle smirk against your skin.

“Nothing you’ve done so far has earned you any satisfaction from me.” His whisper was low–-guttural–-and he pulled you back to the edge of the seat. “I’ll play with you. Hell, I’ll even fuck that little pussy of yours raw. But you won’t receive any release until you give me the information I need.”

An electric shiver ran up your spine, your teeth digging into your lip to silence the ridiculous mewl that was fighting its way into your mouth. You were silent again, fearing if you opened your lips then more traitorous noises would escape. But Ben only watched you with a wry grin.

“You are trying _so hard_ ,” he said. “It’s kind of cute.”

You scowled. _This smarmy little_ –

“Hey, now.” He pouted. “I resent that. I am _not_ smarmy.” His eyes fell to your breasts, and a large hand started to firmly knead one. “I’m _snarky_. There’s a difference.”

“What the—“ Your eyes widened. _Force-sensitive_. You’d never met one before. Now you were hoping you’d never meet another one, if they were all like this.   
“You—“

“Shh.” The pad of his thumb skimmed your hardening nipple through your bra, and you stifled a shuddered breath. “You’re really going to need to start talking soon, because I’m getting impatient.” His gaze flickered to yours and he wet his lower lip.

Uncertain breath rolled through you, but you were still silent, arching your chest into his touch, meeting his eyes with a desperate anger. Ben’s brow furrowed, and he squeezed your breast hard, his other hand wrapping around to pop open your bra. The snap of the garment against your back made you jump, but he was no gentler, ripping the offending item from your shoulders and onto the floor.

Your thighs clamped together at the exposure, cunt pulsing against your will, and you studied him, the knot in your throat bobbing as you swallowed your fear. Just looking at him–seeing the desire glowing gold in his irises was enough to part your lips and burn your cheeks red.

He grinned. “Ready to talk?” 

“Never.”

Ben shrugged. “That’s fine.” His face darkened as a cruel smirk passed his lips. “More fun that way.”

An unseen power slammed your back against the wall, and his mouth attacked your breast, drawing your nipple between his plump lips, flicking it with his tongue as he hummed into your flesh. You gasped, staring up into the ceiling, squeezing shut your lids as you felt him roll your other breast in his hand. The sound of your pulse in your ears was louder than any noise you could suffocate in your chest—but you hoped you were still keeping quiet.

“Fuck,” he moaned. His teeth grazed the stiff bud, and you jerked into him. “You’re making me so fucking hard—do you know that?”

You shuddered, shook your head.

He laid wet kisses from your nipple to your sternum. “I’m gonna fuck that little cunt until you scream…” His other hand jammed between your legs, long fingers easily rubbing against your heat. “But unless you _tell_ me what I want to know…” Now he was working on undoing your pants. “You’ll never get to cum.”

It was too hard to suppress it—you couldn’t help it—a groan left your mouth as you spread your legs wide. Your walls were throbbing with need, aching for the feel of his cock stretching you open. Ben growled against your stomach, sucking his way down your skin.

“Eager thing, aren’t you?” he asked. “And here I was, thinking that you’d be a little prude like the rest of them.” His fingers dug into the tender flesh of your thigh, and you winced. “Lucky me—I caught the only whore in the First Order.”

“How _dare_ you–”

Before you could finish, Ben had his fingers hooked under the thin material of your panties. 

_Death Before Betrayal._

The words were beating faint to you, the word “death” sounding more like a garbled bundle of letters, but you needed to stay focused. Ben’s hands were pulling your legs together, rolling the fabric over your hips down to your ankles before pressing a thumb to the inside of each knee and spreading you open for him to see. You hoped he couldn’t see liquid defiance of your pledge to the First Order dripping out from your sex. 

“Look at that.” His fingers ghosted over your cunt, catching on the hood of your clit. “You can’t even find a pussy this perfect at the cavern bar.”

You weren’t sure whether to be offended or flattered at the relation of your naked flesh to a stripper’s--but he was still your opponent. You pressed your thighs back together against his admiration. 

It was futile attempt under his grasp, and he only held you further apart. He eyes fixed on your figure for a moment, appraising you exposed like this for just a moment longer. He pulled his digits from your legs, rising up to stand in front of you–Gods, he was so much taller at his full height–he kept you spread open by only the force of his own thighs in between yours.

He let out a long sigh in what you could only assume was boredom with your lack of compliance. "Well...“ His fingers hook under the waistband of his trousers, pulling them down unabashedly. You blushed as his cock sprung free–-flushed and heavy–-and he clutched it with a firm hand. Biting your lip, you stared, open-mouthed. He stroked himself twice before finishing his statement. "If you’re not going to speak freely, I’ll fuck that little mouth until you can’t speak at all.”

His fingers pulled over the skin of his dick, catching on the vein leading up to the tip. The pad of his thumb rotated around the head, smearing pre-cum evenly--coating himself in preparation. Your mind was hazing over quickly, drinking you into a simple motive of wanting to suck him off–-wanting to see his face contort while he fucked your throat.

Ben snatched your hair and twisted it around his fingers to hold you in position. “Open.” 

You obeyed, stretching your lips as far as the muscles would allow, and he pressed himself into you. You bobbed your head, slicking him down and gathering the bitter taste of his arousal, mixing it with your own saliva. His grip tightened, pushing himself in further, far past the back of your throat until you were forced to gag and swallow. He let you sit there, sputtering for air, pushing your tongue underneath his dick as a way to retrieve oxygen. You felt tears welling up around the corners of your eyes and your vision blurring. 

He released you just a little-–just enough to inhale slightly and crane your head to look into his eyes as he stuffed himself inside your mouth again. 

“ _Fuck_ , you’re so good.” He held you there, watching the whites of your eyes pinken as you gagged. “No doubt you’ve done this before. The officers back at your base must be missing you. You love sucking cock, don’t you?”

You nodded back up at him, the final shreds of your pride slipping from you in droves. The only thing in your mind at this point was how far you could take Ben down your throat–-how far he could hold composure until he growled in erotic bliss. 

The sound you wanted finally came several strokes later and he released his grip on your hair, pulling himself from your mouth with one hand, his other steadied your chin to stay looking at him. He rubbed his dick around your lips, catching the excess spit that pooled your mouth. You licked at the underside of his cock–your mind officially pushed any glimpse of reasoning away. You needed to fuck Ben now.

A smirk tugged at his lips and he moved himself so his face hovered just above yours. 

“Such a needy little slut, lapping up my dick like an animal. You’re so _close_ to talking.” He drew two fingers inside of his mouth, collecting the moisture before pulling them out and positioning them at your entrance. You felt him slide into you, stretching you wide. You winced as he pushed himself in fully and he smirked in response. "Such a traitorous body, abandoning its own master. Letting some stranger abuse it. I can’t fucking wait to split you. To watch you beg me to cum around this cock.“ You yelped as he spread his thick fingers apart inside of you. He curled one of his digits against your nerves, and you rolled your hips into it. Chuckling, he wiggled deeper, working you faster.

“Remember, you only cum when I’m satisfied with your compliance,” he said, and slipped in a third finger.

Stopping a moan in your throat, you glared at him, continuing to buck your hips with his hand. His digits were thick and long, scissoring and curling inside of you, making you feel fuller than you could ever remember feeling. You were able to maintain your cool until his thumb brushed your clit, and then you wailed, the kiss of skin sending lightning through your thighs.

“So you can make noise.” Ben stroked his thumb back and forth over your throbbing nub, eliciting tiny whimpers. “You ready to give up yet, or what?”

Pleasure was spiking over your nerves, legs shaking, cunt squeezing him as he worked deeper into you. Every breath from your lungs stuttered with lust, and every muscle in your face twitched from the strain of your defiance. Ben was relentless, adding pressure on your clit, the hunger in his gaze poised to consume you entirely.

“Fuck,” you spat. “ _Please_ …” You weren’t sure if you were begging for him to stop or to give you more.

He leaned in close, lips and teeth grazing the shell of your ear. “Please _what_?”

A delicious thrill shot through to your fingertips–-the deep growl of his voice had broken you. “Please, Ben,” you whispered. The submission in your voice was foreign, even to you. “Fuck me. Please, just let me cum, and I’ll give you what you want to know.”

His response was a low chuckle, shaking his head as he pulled his fingers from your pussy. “I bet you tell all the guys that.” He raised his fingers to your lips. “Be a sweetheart and clean these for me.” 

Three thick fingers thrust to the back of your throat, and you gagged, tongue working fast to remove any trace of your cum. The taste was sharp, but any concern you had about it vanished when you saw his eyes devouring you, chest swelling with awe. You sucked at his digits—once, twice—to indicate you were finished, and his plucked his fingers from you, snatching up your hips and pinning you to an empty wall.

Gasping with anticipation, you looked into his eyes, legs and arms wrapping around him. The heat and size of his body were making you ache more than you thought was possible. “I was sent here on a-–”

“Shh.” He positioned the head of his dick at your core. “Fuck now, traitorous admission later. Okay?”

“But you— _fuck_!”

Ben clawed at your flesh as he slammed into you, the size of his cock stretching your cunt with a sweet burn. You heard his hiss of pleasure at your ear as he sucked in air through his nose, rutting into you again, and then the choked groan he caught in his throat as he began pumping into you.

“You’re so wet,” he murmured. “So fucking _tight_ …”

All you could do was moan, scraping your nails across his back, burying your face into his shoulder as your bodies rocked in rhythm with his deep, desperate thrusts. He nuzzled his face against yours, tongue licking lines around your ear, breath loud and hot. Ripples of pleasure echoed over your body, your cunt contracting as your need to cum grew more and more urgent. The way he was fucking you open felt impossibly good—but you wanted more. You wanted to squeal his name, wanted to squeeze his cock as you came undone around him.

“Do you remember what I told you?” he said. “You need to beg me like the filthy little slut you are. I want to hear you pleading in my ear.” He nibbled your lobe. “Do you want to cum?”

Hands bunching the fabric at his back, you whined. “Yes, Ben, yes,” you replied, “I want to cum, I need to—please! Please let me cum, Ben!”

An alien sensation was at your clit, applying friction and pressure and rubbing fast. You cried out, clenching hard, brain buzzing with bliss so thick you couldn’t even care to consider what it was. All you knew was that it felt fucking _incredible_ and was bringing you to the edge faster than you’d ever experienced. Between that and his cock pounding into your pussy, you were nearly done for.

“You like that?” he groaned. “Fuck, you’re such a fucking slut—I bet I could get you begging for me to cum on that pretty little face, hm?”

He’d had you intoxicated long ago. The idea sounded brilliant to your passion-addled brain. “Do it,” you whined, “cum on my face, Ben, ple—fuck!”

Your climax smashed into you, tearing through your body, cunt squeezing and clamping around his thick cock as you moaned into his shoulder, nails digging crescents into his clothes. It rushed you in waves, muscles tensing and twitching as the heat of pleasure dwindled to tingles in your toes.

But you barely had time to recover before Ben slipped out of you, letting you fall hard to your knees. He stared at you, jaw slack as he jerked his cock, head inches from your face. His chest heaved only two anxious breaths before he found his release, sputtering groans as hot cum landed in thick loads onto your mouth, nose and chin.

“Fuck,” he growled, slicking himself through the tail end of his orgasm. “Fuck, you’re so good…”

The walls resonated with the sound of exhausted air, and after admiring his work for a moment, Ben adjusted himself, putting away his cock and straightening his clothes. He drew in another deep breath before grinning at you as you licked and swiped his cum from your face.

After swallowing a glob, you sighed. “My mission was to-–”

“You should probably get dressed,” he said. “I’m sure we’re almost done pulling all of the info from your devices.”

You blinked. No. He couldn’t be serious. “The info from my—the–-”

“Oh, yeah,” he said. “We’ll know everything about you in, what, the next five minutes?”

“But…” Your heart had fallen somewhere into the core of the planet. “You said… you–”

Ben chuckled. “Come on, now, do you really think I’d count on the words of a little slut like you?” He winked, showing his teeth in a mischievous smile. “I’ve gotta have a _little_ fun.”

You couldn’t respond—you were certain your jaw was touching the floor.

He shrugged. “You should stick around, though,” he said, and patted your cheek again. “We could do it again sometime.”

With that, he strode out of the room, leaving you naked, breathless, and—for some reason—relieved.

**Author's Note:**

> Something was *so* fun about writing Ben Solo! We absolutely loved it. We hope y'all did, too!


End file.
